


That Day We Met

by Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind



Series: The Random Disconnected DA Creativity Galore [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Bromance, Bullying, Chantry Boys, Cute, Fluff, Gen, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 20:53:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5680438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind/pseuds/Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair had never belonged anywhere, had never had friends. Untill one day, when a blond boy chased away his bullies and thus had begun a beautiful bromance.</p><p> </p><p>A not - very - prominent headcanon where Cullen and Alistair were recruits at the same monastery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Day We Met

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilentSlayer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentSlayer/gifts).



"Get off me!" the boy yelled and tried to push the nearest person away. Someone behind him grabbed a fistful of his strawberry blond hair, forcing tears out of kid's eyes. 

"Noble bastards cry too, it seems!" someone gloated and the next moment the boy felt a wet willy in his right ear and screeched on top of his lungs. He hated _those_ more then anything else the rest of the recruits threw at him. Getting treated like a child and even bullied like one, was extremely humiliating.

"Deacon, Gregory! Let him go." 

Alistair raised his gaze to see a tall lanky blonde, standing behind his bullies. Boy's arms were crossed on the chest, as he looked calmly at the tormentors. 

"Oi, it's Ser Rutherford, the noble Knight, came to save the Princess!" Deacon (or was it Gregory?) snickered, as he pushed Alistair down in the dirt and the two recruits walked away, their bleating still heard in the distance.

"What's your name?" The blond reached out a helping hand. Alistair grabbed it and pushed himself upwards, trying to dry the tears as fast as possible, so the other boy would not notice.

"Alistair. And I could have taken them on myself!" he huffed trying to get his hair in order.

"Right," said the boy dryly. "I can bring them back, if you are willing to give it another go."

"N- No! I'm very good, thank you -"

"Cullen." the blond answered, as he picked up his training shield from the ground and fastened it on his back.

"So, you are with the templars then? Like me?" Alistair started walking alongside Cullen, watching his new friend. At least he hoped they would be friends. Would be nice to have one, for a change.

"No, I am with the Chantry sisters, could you not tell?" Cullen eyed the redhead kid, who stared at him in nothing short of adoration. For a second he regretted to even interfering but he chased the thought away.

"Well that hair of yours is kind of gir -"

A threat in the amber eyes of the blonde made Alistair stutter and backtrack. Clearly, the curly golden locks of his newly - made acquaintance were a painful subject to discuss. Calling someone's hair 'girly' was the wrong choice of words, this early on. Even if it _did_ look very feminine with those golden, elegantly disheveled corkscrew curls.

"How old are you? I'm fifteen!" he announced proudly. Cullen sized him up thoughtfully.

"Fourteen."

Alistair pouted visibly. He had been notably shorter then the rest of the boys his age. And sometimes even girls were taller. Somehow, the latter hurt his pride that much more.

"So where are you from?" Alistair caught up with Cullen and tried to keep up with the boy's pace. The blond had been half a head taller, his steps wider and faster.

"Honnleath." has been the disinterested reply. "You?"

Clearly the boy asked out of politeness but Alistair was thrilled to talk to somebody who did not want to kick his teeth out. Noble - born recruits hated him for being a bastard. Common ones avoided him and Alistair felt very lonely.

"Redcliffe. My father - I mean, the Arl... I mean - " Alistair was fumbling with words, hating himself for being such a lout.

"Your father is the Arl of Redcliffe?" Cullen arched an eyebrow, looking very suspicious.

"Well actually," Alistair looked around and started whispering frantically. "My father is the King!"

Cullen stopped in his tracks and the next moment Alistair felt a palm slapping him lightly on the back of the head.

"And you wonder why people don't like you. This is the biggest pile of druffalo crap I had ever heard."

"It is true!" Alistair said in a slightly offended tone. "I am not a liar!"

He saw Cullen take a turn towards his barracks, while Alistair's were on the other side of the monastery. A feeling of slight panic washed over him, realizing he will be left by himself again. And he was very sure Deacon and Gregory would be waiting - they were living in the neighbouring quarters.

"Please don't go." Alistair pleaded as he saw Cullen preparing to leave and grabbed the boy's arm in desperation. "I... I am all alone."

Cullen stopped in his tracks. The boy - Alistair - had been widely known amongst the recruits. People claimed his father sent him to the templars to get rid of him and that had created a rich base for cruel jokes and speculations. Alistair had been cheerful and chirpy through it all, trying to get the best out of his situation, but failing miserably. And not for a lack of trying. Siding with a pariah would not get him any love from the rest of the kids but Cullen was not very popular to begin with. Many said he was a stick in the mud, a party pooper and just downright boring for a fourteen - year - old. He had nothing to loose, really. And he felt bad for Alistair, albeit slightly annoyed with all the yapping.

"Fine," Cullen answered curtly, giving the kid a slight stink eye. "I don't have a roommate. I _could_ ask Knight - Captain's permission, if you want to bunk with me."

"Really?"Alistair's eyes got as round as two gold coins.

"Really." Cullen smiled softly and patted the kid on the shoulder.

***

Cullen could not believe there were smalls in his bed. And not his. There were, in fact, Alistair's.

"Alistair, Maker take you, what are your smalls doing in _my_ bed?!" he picked up the undergarments with a tip of the training sword and tossed them in his friend's face, making a disgusted noise.

The red - haired man lifted his head from the scrolls, eyes pure innocence, and pursed his lips together prudishly.

"You and Estrah _defiled_ my bed yesterday. You made me doubt my sanity and it had been only fair to repay you in kind."

"I - We..." Cullen rubbed his neck, blushing and remembering Alistair walking in on them the other night. "We were fooling around! I had breeches on."

"Well _she_ didn't." Alistair shrugged his shoulders defiantly. "I saw a naked woman in my bed that had no business being there. And now, my friend, you get my smalls."

"I -," Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. "What does it even mean?"

"This and that..." his friend drawled, scribbling something on one of the scrolls, looking at the blond from the corner of his eye.

"Alistair," Cullen's voice fell dangerously low as he stepped forward, grabbing his friend by the collar of his shirt. "If you were to say that you - You _pleasured_ yourself in _my_ bed... Maker have mercy upon your perverted little soul, because I won't!"

As Cullen gave Alistair a hard shake one more time, the redhead snorted loudly and finally started laughing so hard, tears were rolling down his cheeks.

"They are clean, Goldilocks! Unlike you, I am considerate of people's privacy."

"I have _profoundly_ apologized for yesterday _and_ changed your bed," Cullen grumbled as he let Alistair go, looking over the man's shoulder. "Transfigurations? Again?"

Alistair hummed and pushed the scrolls away.

"I just can't remember these things. So pointless."

"We have two weeks until the Vigil," Cullen reminded him softly. He knew Alistair's heart was not in it. He never wanted to be a templar, he hated structure and order and he did not agree with Templar politics on mages. Problem was - Alistair had nowhere to go and no - one to turn to.

"I failed my Vigil a year ago." Alistair's voice cracked in desperation. "But they want to get rid of me so badly, I got the second chance. It is my _last_ , Cullen. If I fail this time..."he paused, rubbing his forehead. "I will be all alone. Again. While _you_ will be a goody two shoes in a Tower somewhere, no doubt about that."

"Why, I -" Cullen scowled and put hands on his hips. Despite being a book worm, he did not like people rubbing his nose in it.

"You recite the Chant even in your sleep." Alistair waved his friend's objections away and released a dramatic sigh. "I just wish I had a fairy godmother to swoop in and whisk me away, like in those old stories."

Cullen clicked his tongue jokingly and ruffled his friend's hair, giving him a prod in the shoulder.

"Alistair, don't you know that swooping is -"

"Bad," the redhead cracked a smile.

"Aha," Cullen snatched one of the scrolls from the table and cleared his throat, as he settled on the edge of the table and gestured Alistair to move away. "Canticle of Transfigurations, from the beginning. And _no_ peeking."

**Author's Note:**

> We ALL need more bromances in our life. Alistair is always fun to write.
> 
> For SS, who told me I am all about Cullen and how dare I, and so I gave her Alistair AND Cullen adorbs, to balance stuff out for the both of us.
> 
> Stay cool, chika!
> 
> Kudos and comments are always welcome, if deserved :)


End file.
